Letter from Peter Lamprey to W Gunton



Letter from Peter Lamprey to W Gunton


Peter Lamprey writes that mail had arrived but unfortunately no cigarettes for the Nary, Army and Air Force Institute. He continues with some banter and comments about life at Tiree. He mentions that a trawler went on the rocks and Royal Air Force help resulted in a cargo of fish being donated to the station. He concludes by hoping this will be his last letter from Tiree.




Temporal Coverage




Envelope and six page handwritten letter


This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.





Mr. W. Gunton.
Machine Room.
Waterlow and Sons. Ltd.
Twyford Abbey Road.
Park Royal.
London – N.W.10.

[page break]

[RAF Crest]

Isle of Tiree.
Western [Underlined] Hebrides.[/Underlined]

Sunday. [Underlined] 25th. [/Underlined]

Dear Uncle [one word missing]

At last I have heard from the land of the living. The mail-boat has eventually made it, bringing joy to the natives – incarcerated airmen and other forms of life inhabiting the island. Unfortunately it didn’t bring fags and so with the usual style of getting things done “NAAFI” increased the weekly ration to 40 per. only there ain’t no bloody fags in “NAAFI” and won’t be until another venturesome seafarer decides to explore the islands.

Mr. Hunts’ note still proves my contention

[Page Break]

that a brain is not necessary just to write letters to me. He manages all right. This should give Moloney encouragement. However I am glad to hear even from such a low source as Hunty and with my usual good manners – albeit reluctantly – I thank him.

The way you crack on about being two letters up on me leaves me stone cold. I have enough worries on my young shoulders without the added one of supplying a load of loafers with light reading free of purchase tax. And another thing – don’t keep on about that address – you ain’t gonna get it. And another thing – if you think I can write poetry by candle-light – cold as charity and soaking wet you mistake my vocation. I’m an airman not a superman

[Page Break]

[RAF Crest]

[Underlined] 3 [/Underlined]

At least – I am the second only by comparison.

The small amount of news available is much the same. Nemesis has overtaken me and I am now paying for somebodies mistake. From the highlights and hilarity of the mainland we are still refugees – stranded in sand – s [letters missing] and sorrow. With luck however we might be away by another [inserted] week [/inserted] as we have done all we can. or want to. Mindfull [sic] of not giving away secrets there are just a few things we lack to make this a decent spot. These are water – food and light – barring not having a decent supply of these and having no fags – nowhere to go and nothing to do the place might be bearable if the bloody

[Page Break]

rain and wind let up for about an hour.

Still, we are managing to get by and if only the boat makes it soon we can get off of iron rations and have a look at some bread for a change. How in Hell “Old Railings” would get on here beats me. He’d have to starve. Not that he couldn’t do with a bit of dieting. When I get me back to Inverness I shall get as drunk as a newt even if I get 21 days for it. It will be worth it.

I take it everything is much the same down there. Still rubbing along nice and steady – doing sweet F.A and letting the third hand sweat his guts. I should think half of you perishers were sergeants – you’ve got all the

[Page Break]

[RAF Crest]

Reading your letter through I come to the part where you say – I have no more news to tell. Wheres the news? I want to hear how Moloney fainted when his papers arrived and Charlie and the ginger cat beat it for the roof again. Give me some action stuff, I’m all for someone else having a basin while I put my feet up.

A trawler went on the rocks last week and the RAF helped the boys ashore. As a reward the skipper gave the station the cargo of fish. The boat was a total wreck and after two days on the blasted fish so were we. Breakfast – dinner and tea. Everything you could

[Page Break]

do to a bit of fish, the cooks did it. We looked like a bunch of cats in about 24 hrs. I hope the next one has something a bit more tasty on board.

I hope this is the last letter I write from here and that next week I shall be telling you of the Hell of a time I am having in Inverness. If I don’t you’ll get a letter that is one moan from beginning to end. So until then. Keep your nose clean. Remember me to Rusty and Dave. Kiss Jack Denny for me.

Lots of love Pete.

P.S. I’m too brassed off to write a postscript.



Peter Lamprey, “Letter from Peter Lamprey to W Gunton,” IBCC Digital Archive, accessed December 3, 2023, https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/document/6588.

Item Relations

This item has no relations.